Although his master said that Rebecca was trustworthy, Leon didn’t truly let his guard down.

It wasn’t that he doubted his master; it was just that the mole who had betrayed him back then was among Rebecca and the other two, making it hard for him to fully relax.

A little extra caution never hurt anyone.

Wearing his sunglasses, Leon navigated through narrow alleys and side streets, twisting and turning until he arrived at a single apartment building.

This was Rebecca’s home.

Why was Leon so certain she hadn’t moved in the past three years?

He turned his head towards a corner of the yard.

There, sitting conspicuously, was a comically oversized cannon.

Surely no normal person would keep a fire-elemental-magic-powered cannon in their yard, right?

Leon took his eyes off the cannon and walked around the apartment.

The house was empty.

“She must still be out on a mission at this time,” he muttered to himself as he made his way to the back door of the apartment.

He tried twisting the doorknob.

*Click—*

The door slowly creaked open.

Leon was slightly startled. “That crazy girl’s still as careless as ever. What if a thief broke in?”

But then again, who would dare to steal from the top gunner of the Dragon Slayer Army?

They’d better hope they had nine lives to spare.

Leon entered through the back door and stepped into the living room.

The room was somewhat messy.

Plush toys and a pile of laundry were scattered haphazardly across the sofa.

If Roswitha saw this, she’d probably skip tidying up and just blast the whole place with *Dragon Flame* to make everyone’s life easier.

*Tsk—*

Why did his thoughts randomly drift to that dragoness again?

Missing her was understandable, sure, but wasn’t thinking about her just a few hours after parting a bit much?

Wasn’t this… a little too eager?

Leon shook his head, driving away the messy thoughts, and continued inspecting Rebecca’s home.

On the coffee table, there was a pile of disassembled handgun components next to a single training blank round.

Rebecca was a motor-mouth, always babbling on and on. So when she was alone, she needed something to kill the silence more than most people.

And so, she developed a unique hobby:

Gun assembly.

She would disassemble a handgun completely, reassemble it, take it apart again, put it back together, over and over.

The process was monotonous and tedious, but she could entertain herself quietly for an entire evening.

As a gunner, understanding the mechanics of assembling firearms was undoubtedly an important skill to master.

Leon sat on the sofa, picked up the parts on the table, and started assembling.

Rebecca had taught him how to do this before.

Although he didn’t have her speed or fluency, thanks to his impressive memory, he managed to piece the gun back together.

It was a classic close-range pistol: compact and powerful, beloved by many female gunners—

Except Rebecca.

She preferred larger, louder, and more extreme firearms—the kind whose gunfire anyone within 500 miles could hear.

This small pistol was merely a toy for her to pass the time.

Leon stood up, looked around the room, and had an idea.

...

Two twintails swayed behind the young girl as she walked with a spring in her step.

Though she had a petite loli-like stature, she sported a cool and domineering mature-style outfit: a black cropped vest over a white tank top paired with ultra-short shorts.

Though petite, her legs were perfectly proportioned, boasting just the right amount of fullness.

In her arms was a big shopping bag stuffed with all kinds of snacks and groceries.

“Good afternoon, Rebecca,” a neighbor greeted her warmly.

The twintailed girl stopped in her tracks and responded enthusiastically, “Good afternoon, Mrs. Halley! You look even younger than yesterday. Did you use some magical trick? Can you teach me?”

Mrs. Halley burst into laughter at the compliment, waving dismissively. “Oh, no, no—just a good attitude, that’s all.”

“Ohhh, is that so? Well, that’s pretty cool. By the way, didn’t I last help you with pest control two months ago? Are the critters back again? Need my help?”

Mrs. Halley’s smile stiffened as she recalled the traumatizing sight of Rebecca armed with two machine guns, unleashing a spray of bullets across her yard during that “pest control” session.

The very memory still filled her with terror.

“N-no, no! That won’t be necessary, Rebecca. You go ahead and do your thing.”

“Alright, Mrs. Halley! Just let me know if you ever need me!”

Waving goodbye, Mrs. Halley watched as Rebecca happily sauntered off towards her home.

At her doorstep, Rebecca lifted her plump, shapely leg to balance the shopping bag while her hands searched her pocket for her keys.

But her peripheral vision caught a glimpse of something through the window—a silhouette inside the living room.

Rebecca’s brows furrowed. “A thief?”

For most people, finding a burglar in their home would cause panic, followed by an immediate call to the town guard or reinforcements.

But Rebecca wasn’t most people.

Not only was she unshaken, she was almost… excited.

You blond - haired little thief! In this huge empire, there are so many houses you could have stolen from, but why on earth did you choose to steal from me, your formidable lady!

Perfect. she hadn't seen combat since being assigned to patrol duty. Today, she’d get some practice.

Rebecca carefully placed the shopping bag on the ground, then lifted the corner of the doormat. With one hand, she pressed firmly on a hidden wooden board beneath it. The board popped open, revealing a secret compartment containing a sleek handgun.

As an exceptional gunner, Rebecca could stash firearms anywhere—even inside a toilet tank. Keeping one gun under a doormat was hardly out of the ordinary.

She grabbed the gun, then cautiously pushed the door open and stepped inside, keeping her movements quiet.

Staying close to the wall by the entryway, Rebecca peeked into the living room, where she observed the dark silhouette of the intruder.

Oh, it wasn’t a blonde thief—it was a black-haired one.

And he wasn’t particularly small either; he looked about six feet tall, which meant he could probably punt 5’2” Rebecca across the room if he wanted.

The black-haired thief’s back was to Rebecca, so she couldn’t see his face.

But that didn’t matter.

Whether he's a blondie or a brunet, a petty thief or a big-time crook, the weapons in my hands aren't something to be trifled with.

Unaware of Rebecca’s presence, the thief continued rummaging through her belongings.

Taking this opportunity, Rebecca crept closer silently, one step at a time.

Silent infiltration was part of mandatory gunner training.

By the time Rebecca reached the intruder’s back, he still hadn’t noticed her.

*Click—*

The cold barrel of her gun pressed into the man’s side. She couldn’t aim at his head—she was too short and would’ve needed to stand tiptoed to even try.

The thief was surprisingly quick to react, raising his hands in surrender without hesitation.

“Well, well, you’ve done this before, huh, Mr. Thief? Looks like you’re no stranger to having a gun pressed against your back,” Rebecca quipped smugly.

“Breaking into a young girl’s house in broad daylight, rummaging through her leftover takeout containers… Your tastes are a bit… unconventional, don’t you think?”

The so-called thief said nothing.

Rebecca raised a brow. “Hmph, you have the right to remain silent, Mr. Thief. But any word you say can and will be used against you in court!”

Still no response.

If there was one thing a motor-mouth like Rebecca couldn’t tolerate, it was people ignoring her.

She frowned slightly before jabbing the gun’s muzzle into the thief’s back harder. “Oh, you’re gonna play mute? Do you believe that I'll shoot you and leave you paralyzed from the waist down?”

It was an empty threat, of course. A thief was still a criminal, but not one deserving such an extreme reaction—Empire law wasn’t exactly a free-for-all deathmatch.

Finally, the “thief” opened his mouth:

“I bet your gun… is unloaded!”